


Sanctum

by hypernomad



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1610834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypernomad/pseuds/hypernomad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an intricate warren of tunnels in the foxhole of Ian's heart and somehow, Mickey had never needed a compass or a map to find his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctum

**Author's Note:**

> I bring you pure, unadulterated fluff. Enjoy.

Ian was in love.

Well, of course, he’d known that for years, but it had been a while since the fact had actually been uplifting and pain-free. It was seven in the morning and they’d been out at Ian’s club most of the night before – a few of the guys had begun joking that Mickey had become Ian’s personal bouncer- and they hadn’t got home until around three o’clock. Mickey, as usual, was completely exhausted and had face-planted Ian’s bed as soon as they got home after stripping down to his boxers and pulling on one of Ian’s t-shirts.

Ian hadn’t managed to get much sleep in himself, but instead of leaping out of bed and going downstairs for an early morning run and making pancakes, he’d decided to stay in bed for a little longer and reacquaint himself with the face he’d been wanting to wake up beside for the last few kaleidoscopic months, infinitely more than he wanted military drills, strobe club lights, thumping music, Monica, drugs, or greedy hands and mouths. It was strange to think now about how hard he had tried to run from the only thing he really wanted. Not much was making sense these days.

Mickey was a heavy sleeper. It was a sight that Ian wasn’t used to seeing; in fact, he’d only seen Mickey sleep a few times before their current living arrangement had been established. The first time, Mickey had been on his stomach and snoring, and the next couple of times had been the few short naps that had punctuated energetic and powerfully intimate fucks on that ill-fated night last summer.

Now, Mickey was relaxed, and, for what felt like the first time in a long while, so was Ian. It had been a little rocky to begin with, but it was steadily beginning to feel as though things were getting close to touching the tender calm that had settled between them before Terry had burst in and poured gasoline all over their little rose garden of hard work and growth. Mickey’s face was really a thing of beauty. He didn’t look a thing like his father, and there was some resemblance to Mandy that he didn’t really have with any of his brothers – give or take a few vague similarities between minor things like their hair colour or their noses or the shape of their ears – so Ian assumed that he must look more like his mother, if Mandy’s unsettling words all that time ago were anything to go by. He didn’t know why, but for some reason this gave him a little comfort. Maybe it was because everyone always said how he looked the most like Monica than any of his brothers or sisters. Maybe it was because he’d felt like the cuckoo in the nest for most of his life, even before he found out that Frank wasn’t his actual father. Maybe it made him feel less alienated to know that Mickey had had to cope with the same thing tenfold. Maybe Mickey just felt the most like home, and he was tired of looking for a new one.

Man, he was so fucked up right now. He hadn’t even taken anything. Maybe he was a little tired after all?

Ian’s head shifted on the pillow and he sighed as Mickey’s eyelids fluttered. Mickey’s hand was resting on the mattress in between them and Ian gently covered it with his own, sliding his fingers over Mickey’s palm and curling his hand around it. Mickey didn’t stir at first though, and Ian pressed his face closer to the older boy’s, still watching him tenderly. Mickey seemed to unconsciously shift towards Ian after a few minutes - he rested his head on his shoulder and threw one arm over his body. Ian smiled and brought the arm that was now trapped somewhere behind Mickey and the wall and hooked it around the brunet’s neck so that he could cradle his head and stroke his hair and forehead gently. He brought his other hand up and began stroking lines over Mickey’s face with his index finger, smiling and gently tracing lines down the slope of his nose, circling his chin and tracing along his jaw and giggling silently as the older man’s sleeping face twitched comically.

When Mickey finally did stir, Ian was amused and unsurprised to realise that his eyebrows seemed to wake up before the rest of him did, jumping up to his hairline. Mickey’s eyes screwed up and he groaned groggily.

“I swear your eyebrows have ADHD or some shit. It’s like they have a life of their own.” Ian said quietly.

“Wh’time is it?” Mickey asked breathily, his voice a little strained as he arched his back and stretched out his muscles.

Ian reached behind him to glance at his phone. “Seven-thirty.”

Mickey made a strange gurgling, grunting noise in response as he finished stretching and slumped against the redhead again, resting his head on the pillow. “S’tired.” He whispered into Ian’s neck.

“You gotta go to the bar later?” Ian asked.

“Yeah. Gotta make sure they’re actually doin’ their fuckin’ jobs and not sitting around eating cereals and reading the goddamn newspaper.” Mickey grumbled.

Ian grinned and stroked Mickey’s hair again, playing with a particularly long lock of it. “So grumpy.” He whispered affectionately, brushing their noses together in a horribly soppy Eskimo kiss. “Sleepy tiger.”

Mickey didn’t open his eyes and instead purred a few times into the tight space between them. He smiled when Ian let out a short, loud laugh at the noise.

“Ssh, you’ll wake your brothers up.” Mickey whispered through a grin, his eyes still closed.

“I’m gonna go make breakfast now anyway.” Ian sighed, moving to sit up.

“No you ain’t.” Mickey said, grabbing the younger man and pulling him back down again. “I haven’t woken up with you still in bed with me for weeks, man. Lay back down.”

Laughing quietly, Ian did as he was told and pulled the blankets up over them, cocooning them tightly and planting a kiss on Mickey’s mouth. “Okay, princess.”


End file.
